


There was a dead flower in the letter you gave me

by manciissuperior



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Boys Kissing, Character Death, Flowers, Heavy Angst, Illnesses, Love Letters, M/M, Royalty, Some fluff too, dont worry i dont want to make people cry, gay blockmen once again, i still dont know how to tag, some things may be triggering im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manciissuperior/pseuds/manciissuperior
Summary: They lived in the wrong time, in the wrong place and stood on separate sides.An independing war always tears everyone apart, but sometimes flower gardens and letters make the strongest bond in fate.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 52





	There was a dead flower in the letter you gave me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuuk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuk/gifts), [smoluwuqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoluwuqueen/gifts).



> special thanks to @smoluwuqueen for helping me with this and motivating me to write <3

_May 23th_

The king looked down at the paper on his desk and slowly led his hand through his blonde locks. He sighed and put the said sheet next to him, which even had a seal on it - showing that this was a serious matter.

He had known for months that this would be happening — since the last shorter epidemic period for the other empire had been in the middle of a particular war situation, they had, of course, had to stop for a certain period of time with what they had been doing until then. This, of course, did not mean that they would not have to continue what they had started later - this was shown by the said meeting letter sent before each more punctual situation to discuss what they wanted to achieve or perhaps, to prevent the worst. It usually couldn’t - that’s why both empires were as weak as they were.

The king sighed again, frustrated, no matter how - oh how much - he was prepared for the next situation like this. He would have lied if he had said that his army - and the other inhabitants of the empire at idle, the late winter was always strong, that’s not moot - was ready for it because it wasn’t. Not at all.

“I have to go there anyway, right?” He asked himself as he continued to eye that letter, which he held in his hand again.

He scanned the letter for a few more minutes — mostly lost only in his own thoughts — before he finally slipped it into his desk drawer, then, pushing it in, left the study, which was located right next to his own bedroom, on the fourth floor. He stepped out into the corridor, which had swept through the huge light with heavy and soft footsteps, and a small crumb of carpet material could be heard beneath his feet.

His first trip led to the same located spa, where he didn’t spend much time as he just washed his face and then just retired to his own room. He has decided that no matter how young the night is, he needs to be prepared for tomorrow’s departure as he faces a long day. May 21st.

* * *

The next day passed quickly, as the whole thing consisted only of a journey — from one castle to another — and, after arriving late at night, a large joint dinner attended by the kings and most important, most reliable soldiers of the two empires.

Said dinner was quiet and only different clicks of cutlery with plates could be noticed. The atmosphere was concentrated, just like a state aroma of a poor quality fake French perfume.

The sleeping area that the Orientals were given was small, although they didn't expect anything else, they were just guests in the castle. Everyone was scared of the next morning.

* * *

Breakfast was spent in a similar mood to the previous dinner, not surprisingly. As of the current situation, the specific date of the meeting was half-past three in the afternoon, until then all participants were given free leave, but most of them just went back to their accommodation area. And a small part of them occupied themselves in the castle garden, as did the King of the Orient, Dream. 

A castle garden is a beautiful place, the most beautiful in every castle where he has ever been to. He used to occupy himself there in his free time wherever he was, wherever he had to pull himself for a certain time. While his father ruled, he took his son with him many times - especially here, as they never had a good relationship with the Westerners - so he was already familiar with the huge and dazzling arbor of them.

He was currently sitting on a secluded bench as he eyed the fountain alternating up and down in proportion to time. He didn't focus on what was going on around him, as several people passed the garden walkways, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone sitting at the other end of the bench. He had seen him before, though they had never spoken to each other.

"It's a beautiful garden, isn't it?" said the said figure, whose voice rang somewhat bittersweetly into Dream's ear.

“It is” he sighed and their conversation stopped at this point, but none of them stood up from where they were - not as if they were bothered by the other’s presence.

* * *

The remaining few hours before the meeting went faster than any person present would have thought. They accumulated in the throne room, everyone according to their own representative - their king - took their seats opposite to each other. 

The two rulers specifically face each other to show their dominance over their employees, who were only there for support purposes, not like one of their superiors.

Sapnap took a seat and crossed his legs. He was waiting. He waited for what the other king - noble known as Dream - would take as he would begin or completely what he was preparing for. His face was flooded with an inquisitive smile when the said man finally appeared in the room, with two of his chief counselors behind him.

"Great, you're finally here," he said in a mocking voice.

“Sorry for the delay” - for the non-existent delay, he would say, they arrived on time -. The other king also took a seat along the way and thus began the long-awaited assembly between the two empires.

* * *

The symposium lasted longer than it was originally planned — because Westerners, of course, had to start quarreling with the slightest misunderstanding — so it ended the whole two hours later than it should have happened.

The ball started too late to be called just an evening one, as is always the case. After all this, they say, as a sort of reassurance, they held a ball in the throne room of the castle of the empire where they met on the occasion - everyone enjoyed these evenings, since who wouldn’t have? 

The situation - and everyone's thoughts - was soaked with stress, but in most soldiers this could it replace with alcohol at this time - which may not be very optional considering what they are up to after the night.

The situation was simple now, they had to prepare - both kingdoms - to continue the war situation, because, of course, the constant struggle of the Westerners did not lead any further, and this made me astonishingly frustrated, not only the King of the East, even any other Western councilor. Let’s just say, Sapnap was a pretty hot-headed leader - and with that, he caused quite a bit of trouble for the kingdom he led. But that’s certainly no longer Dream’s problem - unless his own is also threatened by the 'idiot' how the blonde would call him.

The evening — the night — was wonderful, already, if it can be called wonderful, that Dream sat on one of the balconies all the time, holding a glass of champagne in his hand and staring at the sky, which fortunately was clear that day. Well, how much better is it to look at a canvas full of stars that aren’t ruined by a large dose of cloud - maybe. During this period, quite a lot of rain fell on the Orientals, the warm and fresh May of the Westerners was refreshment.

He was put off from his thoughts when another man stepped out into the fresh air, i.e. the terrace where he was. The figure was familiar to him - he had met him in the castle garden! - struck by recognition. He pulled himself a little further so that the other man could make himself more comfortable outside. 

The said figure just pressed himself against the wall, followed by a small hiss - probably expecting the stone to be so warmed up that it wasn't as cold as it was - the blonde laughed a little inside.

Dream spun his drink in his glass and watched as the liquid changed its direction. 

"What do you think will happen next?" the man spoke beside him — in the same bittersweet voice as in the castle garden. Dream liked this bittersweet sound.

"Excuse - what?" he asked back, suddenly not even knowing what to react to the question he was suddenly asked.

"I asked, what do you think will happen next?"

“I don’t think I should talk to you very much about this,” he sighed and sipped his champagne. "I'm a little more mysterious about my realm."

“Well be it” the other shrugged and continued. "I think that's going to mean the loss of Westerners, at this point."

"You're Western too."

"That doesn't mean I don't realize how big an orbital bastard the king is."

"True” crawled a smile onto the blonde's face. "What's your name? I think you know mine if you've stopped to talk to me so 'disrespectfully'. ”

“George” the other said no more - understandable. "I'm a captain - I lead one of the best squads, that's probably why I'm here."

“Oh, what a genius I am dealing with here,” he smiled again — which was quite new to him. "I'm glad to meet you, George."

They then began to talk specifically - apart from the differences that existed between the two of them. It wasn’t striking as they were just trying to make their evening less boring - probably. And it was a perfect opportunity for them to do so - and none of them opposed learning more about each other. 

During the night, the King of the East, who had hitherto been called ice-hearted, made friends, so to speak. Or he fell in love with the voice of the captain. It can be said like that too.

Essentially, they decided during their multi-hour stay that they wanted to continue what they had started - despite their opposites, so the blonde gave the man an opportunity to correspond with him. He hoped he would live with it since he himself could no longer ask his opinion in person about it because they had to leave early in the morning to return to the castle of the Orientals in normal time. At the start, he looked carefully back and forth to see if the man was waving back at him, but he had never seen him — oh, though he would have known someone from the tower square was really gesturing to him.

* * *

_June 17th._

The king looked down at the paper on his desk and slowly led his hand through his blonde locks. He sighed and put the said sheet next to him, which even had a seal on it - showing that this was a serious matter. Already, if a false seal can be called serious on a personal letter he received from an important captain of the other empire — if it could. 

"Dear Dream,

Hi.

I don’t know if I should start this, honestly. I never write letters, it's not my thing.

I last saw you almost a month ago - which isn’t too much time, but I kind of miss your voice. It’s like purring it in my ear and slowly filling the space - that’s why every single speech you make can be so effective. 

I don’t have much to tell you, honestly, we just had to get ready during that time, you also know why - I think. 

Soldiers - and residents too - don't appreciate the situation we are in and fear that something very bad will happen. In the end, they even assassinate the king - hah. Thinking about it, it's not as funny as what I think it is. ”

Dream stopped here for a few moments to turn the small piece of paper that served as a letter, he smiled.

“The point is, I don’t think what happens next will be too successful, but I don’t dare say you’re going to win. I can't let you win :), not even idling.

I hope to see you as soon as possible and listen to your dumbest and dumbest thoughts live again, not just by imagining them in my head. One thing you can be sure of, a thousand results, is that this is not the only time you hear from me - even within the framework of such a short letter.

With love, George. "

* * *

July 19th.

“Dear George

I didn’t get a letter from you this month - another question is that we’re only in the middle of the month and it’s not that easy to get these to each other.

I think preparation is hitting its peak and you don’t even have time to exist - the situation is similar here. It's just war - for what? - I'm really looking forward to the meeting letter. Not everyone is really happy with the situation - which, frankly, is completely understandable, I don’t think anyone would want to fight each other again - that nearly four to five months of absence meant a lot.

However, that’s not why I wanted to write to you - if you’re reading what I’m sending - but also to tell you a little bit about how I feel. It may not be very optional - since we should be enemies.

I was thinking of giving you a few options for our next meeting, which I hope will happen as soon as possible. Or not… here I mean more what kind of plans I have for the future of us. 

I want to show you my castle's garden - it always reminds me that we met in another - for the first time! And I would keep it as an important memory if it hadn’t appeared to you so far… I’m sure it has already happened.

Intrinsically, I thought I could drive you around my castle, pretty nice - you could say.

And you must love beautiful things since you are one of them - since I first saw your wonderful and incomparable beauty, I have dared to love it wildly, passionately, devotedly, hopelessly. _Maybe now I was captivated by the momentum, should not have said it_ …

(…)

I wanted to show you a little more closely - if I can’t see this time - so though, dried, but I wrapped you a few flowers next to my letter, I hope you like them.

With love, Dream. ” 

_August 28th._

~~Hi,~~

~~Dear George~~

You may find this letter strange - ~~if you read it~~ \- because I'm writing to you out of impulse ~~because I'm worried.~~

Honestly, I have no idea what I should write to you in addition to what I’ve already said - I want to see you. As true as they are, they cannot be resolved - given the current situation, which I'm sorry about. Although I may not have to apologize for it, I still do.

I think soon - maybe a month? - the meeting letter may come and we can travel until the sun comes down, but at least I'll see you? Maybe? It may not be in the frames I want at idle, but it is absolutely more than anything - and I should be happy for the smallest things too.

I don’t have much to say - everything happens the same as before, but I packed you some new flowers again - just like last time - I hope you like them. 

I hope you know I keep thinking about you, even if I go to wash my face, brush my teeth, walk out the door on the way to work - no matter how much I have to walk through the castle - know, that I think about you. When I do, I don’t feel like a terrible person.

I hope I see you soon.

With love, Dream. ”

* * *

_September 26th._

The king looked down at the paper on his desk and slowly led his hand through his blonde locks. He sighed and put the said sheet next to him, which even had a seal on it - showing that this was a serious matter.

Not disputed, he expected this - but, oh, in the blink of an eye, the waiting time before the main meeting was over. 

About two weeks ago, he sent his last letter to George, from whom he hadn't received any response since - so he only hoped to see him the next night. He could only hope. 

He slipped that stamped letter into his drawer again and, as before, left what he had done until then. He went, washed his face, went back to his bedroom, and just stared at the ceiling. He was too far behind to do that - but who is he to finish something on time? He knew himself so much that he did not set such expectations for himself. It may have been less appreciated by the various nobles and rulers of the surrounding larger and smaller empires. For example, he did not respond to a letter mentioning marriage, even if he had read them, which he had continued to receive from various noble families in various empires, mostly in a supplication tone.

* * *

The next day, as on all such occasions, was only a journey. Dream, instead of resting in the evening, occupied himself in the castle garden of the other castle. Even if staring at a fountain can be called occupying - just as when he first met George, this is why he went down there.

Was it worth the wait? Absolutely not. 

He didn't know how long he'd been there — since they arrived at the castle around seven o'clock in the evening and seized their sleeping area — but he was sure it was past midnight when he decided to return to his, his counselors', and his chief soldiers' place.

Was he disappointed? There is no question about it.

* * *

The next day, he spent the time before the meeting in the castle garden again — not even going in for lunch or breakfast — probably waiting in the same way for the brunette captain — just like the night before. He felt unnecessarily being where he was. He would have preferred to run home — whether on foot, on horseback, or so — so that he would not have to worry about not being able to see who he was waiting for. He was astonishingly disappointed in himself — hitherto known as an ice-hearted king, for which he was known, and now, for the attention — rather than his presence — of the best captain of the hostile empire, he barked in front of a fucking fountain. He thought about getting a coin from somewhere, anywhere, and wishing in a cliché way of the water, which, of course, he didn’t do in the end. But it arose in him — even though he didn’t believe in anything like that.

The meeting was about what they expected - it was discussed when the specific start date would happen so they could start with a clean slate. Although the King of the Orient did not feel it was important to continue their struggle, which was interrupted by idling - the death of people might not be called that. Neither empire was ready for it and winter was approaching. What sane person would want to go to war in winter? Exactly, none.

Their whole couple of hours of conversation — mostly yelling from Sapnap and hissing from Dream under his breath — consisted of what they wanted to do now, then. Sapnap insisted on ending this as they started, with concrete bloodshed, and Dream wanted to convince him that if he wanted to, he could at least wait until both empires gathered better - this, of course, slipped past the other's ears and he couldn't understand.

* * *

At the ball - which everyone was obliged to attend - he once again spent his time only on the terrace, but today he was eyeing not his first champagne, which was new compared to him. He did not like to drink much alcohol, as he felt obligated to be responsible as a ruler - at this level as well. 

Well, he also knew what kind of poison and what alcohol was capable of, he didn't accidentally support it very much among his soldiers, of course, he didn't forbid it to them, but he promised them to restraint - which most of them could take seriously. 

He sighed and took a sip of his bittersweet drink — that's why he loved champagne. He loved the bittersweet very much. Oh, the bittersweet, ”did he keep reminding his distant lover? Friend? He had no idea what the answer was. He himself was sure of his feelings for the other man, no matter how much he wanted to delve deeper into them since he was an enemy of his. However, he no longer knew what the other was feeling because he had not talked much about them in his letters — as if he had written him letters. 

Dream tried to find him during the meeting, he found it and their eyes met not once, not even twice, but at times they did not say a word to each other, before or after.

A few steps took him from his thoughts and he looked in the direction of the door, where he saw the one who had digested your thoughts every single second since he had been here, and indeed since he had last seen him. 

"Hi," the other man said, Dream didn't answer. “I’m sorry I didn’t write, believe me, I’ve read all your letters nearly a thousand times. It may be a silly excuse - oh it will be a very silly excuse - but I just couldn’t solve it. Do you remember the loophole we took advantage of so I could write to you? When the mailing was closed for a short period of time due to various problems, it was also eliminated - simply my only solution would have been to take my mails to you myself,” he said. “If you want all of them, one by one, I’m pushing into your hand because I wasn’t left speechless. I’ve written nearly a thousand things about you, myself, the sky, and how much… how much I liked your ideas. Because I want you to show me your castle garden, I want you to lead me around your castle because I want to be only with you,” he sighed. "Now I probably sound like a teenage girl in love, but I honestly don't mind that that's how I managed to say everything I wanted to say with my letters." 

“Oh, George… Oh, George” the blonde stood up and approached the other. Who cares about champagne if you can smooth the face of your lover? Exactly, nobody. He walked over to him and his hands pressed against the captain's cheek, which was flooded with warm and red blush, both of them smiling. “You don’t know how much I missed you” his smile turned into a grin. "You're like an angel, I don't even deserve you ... good heavens." 

"What if you finally did something instead of praising?" that's all the blonde needed and leaned over the other's lips. Their kisses were slow, but they condensed all their feelings into them, then over and over again. The King of the Orientals and a squadron-leader of Westerners wrapped their faces in each other's, parting in every third blink of an eye - they were acting like starving hyenas that were for a week, in this case, several months. 

"I was starting to think I'd never see you again, you know?" sighed Dream, the king who would have given up everything for the other man, everything - and he dared to take it on. "I was amazingly worried about you, you can't believe how much."

"I'm here, as you see," George laughed, still nestling himself in the other's arm. "I missed you too." 

Then they spent almost another seemingly generation time on the terrace - continuing the same thing they had done so far, leaning on top of each other, of course, is totally okay. Because by chance there couldn’t have been a big fuss about this - a Western captain with the eastern king? Come on. In both of them, this and similar doubts jumped in, but as soon as they were lost in each other — and in each other's lips — these doubts shattered into dust and were immediately forgotten. After all, who wouldn’t forget all their worries when, after months of waiting, they can do what they’ve been waiting for for so long?

“How about… what would you say if I showed you our sleeping area? Or maybe a little more interesting parts of the castle?” George interrupted the silence that had been going on so far — if that could be called silence.

"Oh," the blonde raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to take me to your room? Don’t you think it’s a little quick darling? ”

"You're saying this now as if you didn't want to swallow my face in the last two minutes."

They both laughed.

* * *

“You know, since you sent me your letter about next summer, I’ve been thinking about leaving this dirt nest here,” the brunette sighed. They were sitting on the same terrace as last night, just staring at each other whilst watching the sunrise. The Orientals had to leave soon, and after their night together, they decided that in the end, they wouldn’t really lie down to sleep - it wouldn’t be worth it for either of them to get up more tired than to fall asleep.

"You mean the dirt nest as the westerners?"

"What else?"

"Valid" smiled. “Is it so promising to you that an amazingly cool king will show you his castle? Did you like my flowers so much? ”

"Absolutely. - You always knew which one to choose. I kept them. ”

"I am glad."

This time, however, Dream had already seen where his lovely captain was waving to him, for now, he had come out — albeit in hiding so that he would not be too conspicuous — to say goodbye. The end of their morning conversation was mostly just about George apologizing to him in case they didn't see each other again - the day was approaching when the battle situation would resume and George wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if he hadn't greeted him. He may have said goodbye, but the blonde was unable to accept — no matter how much he knew it was a possible outcome — that it could indeed happen.

The road was quiet and bumpy, like the period that awaited both empires — which, in the end, could no longer be prevented.

* * *

_November 11th._

Even the very first collisions were too bloody to look at with good eyes - even if they could - do so when idling. All the feedback from Dream’s majors reported how many people had already died from them - no matter how much they weren't at the disadvantage.

He sighed. Again, a new summary of what happened in the last few days - which happened too quickly to be perceived as just a few days. Everything was fast - faster than anyone expected. And a thousand times bloodier and heavier than anyone expected - it's just a matter of detail.   
  


His silence was disturbed by a soft knock, - disturbed? - he raised his head and the door slowly opened.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty, the reason why I just came up here - I hope it’s not a problem - to talk about the new prisoners. They managed to bring in a couple for the returnees and I thought you would be interested,” stood the guard at the door, named Eret. He came to the West with an interesting past - but he was loyal to them and did nothing problematic. Dream wasn’t really close to any of the people working in his mansion, but he dared to tell the “ex-western” that he would be happy to stop talking to him if his time and opportunity allowed it.

“Oh, wonderful” applauded and stood up and slowly pushed his chair in. "Would you lead me down there, please?" At this, Eret just nodded and, waiting for the king to leave the room, carefully closed the door. 

The cells — where, of course, the newcomers were always held — were at the concrete other end and height of the castle, relative to the king's study. It wasn’t that they had to walk nearly four levels down, they still had to go through the whole place. 

He got interesting glances from everyone — you could say they hadn’t really seen him since he arrived home since the last meeting, especially not in someone’s company — but he was interested in the prisoners and therefore had to go down from his floor. That’s why everyone might have wondered what he could do — especially at eight o’clock in the morning — with a guard. 

The part below, no matter how it was made for and used by 'them', was quite tidy and clean in its condition, as far as it can be called clean.

It was cold there, but what would be in a cellar in October? Exactly.

The footsteps of the king and his watcher's echoed on the paved floor — as if the place had been completely extinct. There don’t seem to be enough newcomers to fill the empty cells — there were, of course, pre-filled prisons there — though they may have just been condensed together. It would not have been the first time. 

"Let's see what we have to work with today," the king sighed. “And thank you for speaking and escorting me, if you want, you can go back and do your things, but you can stay - of course, if you feel like it. Who knows how aggressive Westerners will be.” He just nodded and didn't seem to go back - who wouldn't miss the prisoners' first visit? Come on. 

Dream, conveniently, found the key he needed to open the large door of the prison - no matter how huge the space was, all the new prisoners were transported and unloaded in the older part as it was easier to get there from outside.

The blonde's lips formed on an "o" shape as he looked around the new prisoners - there weren't many, there could be a maximum of about six, but there were more interesting people among them. When he saw someone he froze as every single smaller stream in the empire. He stared at him for minutes, from whom he couldn't take his eyes off. What is George doing here? - he asked himself.

He realized when he felt someone poke his shoulder, then he shuddered. He quickly grabbed his own face as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat. 

“Wonderful morning dear westerners,” he almost spat out those words. “I would like to outline the events of the next seven days, each day either I or one of my designated commissioned guards will talk to all of you, one by one, of course. Then you’ll see what you do there, but I recommend that you open your mouths quickly, we don’t have enough time to have fun with it,” he sighed. “You are in complete safety this week - no one can raise their hand to any of you - to be happy about something. You don't need to know about the rest,” he pulled himself out and tried to point a sympathized face at those prisoners — the blind man would have seen him lying, too.

* * *

The first few days of that week went well, that is, you could say well. Of course, they still had so much pride in not starting to talk — as they expected. But sometime the ice is sure to break, and they waited for that. Dream has not only once gone down to talk to them, although this may have only further heightened the tension in them, which is understandable, everyone would be scared if a king wanted to interrogate them.

Really, he did it only because there weren’t many things he could have done - or he was so interested in doing - so, true to his own habits, he didn’t even deal with those. 

It was Saturday, in theory, though it could only have been misinterpreted by him and it could have been a completely different day just now - his sense of time was not the brightest. It was around nine in the morning, when he reached that cell again, which he had approached a thousand times already, in a few days.

“I would like to be the first to… to talk to your dear captain. If you don’t get up on your own, I’m going to scrape you off the ground and I don’t think you’ll appreciate it,” he said as he just locked out the door to that slot. His prisoners were hostile to him — no matter how much he gave them a sheltered cover over their heads — but they let George get up on his own — slowly because of his wounds, but for sure — and join the king.

“Great! You don't want to oppose as much today as you used to, it's new. " 

Dream asked his previously mentioned guard, Eret, so that no one would stand outside this morning in front of the interrogation room, which, of course, he had performed from the duty, but that was another matter. 

The room brought up earlier was not large, it was only filled with a table with two chairs facing each other, quite average in that respect. 

"Hi George," the blonde murmured. "How are you doing today?" he didn’t really deal with the interrogation when he was finally able to talk to him, no matter how incorrect it was — he did.

George didn't answer, which wasn't typical of him. He wasn’t a talkative man - it had to be noted, but he always said something when asked, even if he did it in the most monotonous voice.

Dream slowly reached under the brunette's chin and looked deep into his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

“Don’t… don’t worry about it, there’s no problem. Everything is okay with me,” he muttered.

“Did anyone hurt you, darling? Did anyone hurt you?” he spoke to him softly and the other just nodded cautiously. "Where?" 

George didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't resist the simply honeyed sound the blonde had gifted him with. He began to carefully turn off his shirt, which he was wearing enough to show off his shoulder blades and belly with more scars. Even the wounds that survived the night before they were captured were plenty fresh, as only a few days had passed since then, but it is not disputed that there were many more there than before.

The king was amazed to see them — he could not even count how many minor scratches he had suddenly seen, too much to be accidental.

“Oh” got up from his chair and walked over to the other man. His hands reached weakly to his shoulders, which to, he just shuddered and staggered, releasing a sigh from his lips. "I'll help you get your shirt back and take you to mine" at this, George snatched his head and his face was evidently awakened by a fearful feeling. "I can't leave you in this state here… And well, I can do whatever I want to."

George was amazed at how huge the castle was, even though the blonde only led him through a few corridors. He first found himself in a larger medical room, where after a few seconds of speaking, a hip sensation gripped his entire body — oh, disinfectant, he thought. He couldn't concentrate on what was happening around him or what was happening to him specifically, but he could feel his major wounds full of earth and mud that he had acquired on the battlefield cleaned up — and he didn't find it pleasant.

George didn't go back to the cell that day.

* * *

The next morning, too, he found himself in the king's bed instead of the filthy stone floor, which terrified him the moment he woke up. Suddenly he thought he was dead, which of course wasn’t true, but what would you think of when you find yourself in a bed after probably the hardest couple of weeks of your life?

He turned to his side and felt a hand slowly smooth his chin, after a few sluggish blinks he opened his eyes and faced his lover's face.

“If there were words to describe, I still wouldn’t be able to tell how beautiful you are,” he muttered softly under his smile. "You are amazing." George just smiled. 

George never went back to the cell after that — no matter how worried he was about it every night, he found himself in the king's bed again and again. What about his people? Are they still alive at all?

“Dream” murmured into the other’s ears as they stared at each other’s faces and ceilings one late December - together, of course.

“Hm? Do you want to talk about something? ”

“You know, I never thought, as someone from the Western, that I would ever betray my empire. Then I met you back in May last year and you completely twisted my head. Now look at me, I lie in the bed of the king who leads the enemy. ” 

“You know, though this can be hard to process,” he stopped. "As the rule says, if you stay in another realm as a prisoner for more than thirty days - you are no longer a true member of your original empire ... George, your thirty days are long gone."

“It’s not enough for me to catch a cold and to feel dead, I even have to realize I’m no longer a westerner,” he laughed. "That's it."

"That's why I wanted to offer you to work in the castle - a lot of people gossip that you're my concubine because they only see me in my area - anyway."

"To work? Here? You've gone mad? Not to mention the rumors ... how would they take me in like that at all? Did you think about that?” he raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I thought about it, I wouldn't have brought it up if I hadn't." George just nodded. 

* * *

The ex-western - the new eastern? - actually started working in the castle, mostly helping in the kitchen areas in the winter, although his still healing wounds prevented him from doing so a bit. It seemed his organization didn’t really want to let them go. 

Most of the time, he just packed wood next to the stove or rearranged the larger shelves and cabinets - but he wasn’t really able to do more. And after that, he slept in the king's bed every night - he may have really been rumored to be his concubine, but that's another matter.

Many times they wrote each other short letters during the day to express how much they missed the other - no matter how much they saw each other every morning and night, it was not enough for them.

* * *

February is cold, George notes to himself as he has been touring a particular section of the castle garden for a thousandth time that day so he could carry freshly cut pine into the oven. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t cold - a swinging shirt might not be very good to wear in February, maybe. 

Even in mid-December, he thought he was completely healed - which apparently was not true. Over the past two weeks, he had been starting to feel increasingly weak, which is why he went up to Dream’s room reneged many times in the evening when he was done with his day’s activities — but he wouldn’t have admitted that he wasn’t well, he would never do it. Why would he? 

Although he should have admitted, when he simply couldn't lift the tree he should have brought, urgently, that's why he was scolded for getting there late. Then he begged himself out from there - luckily he got permission to do so.

He knocked carefully on the door of Dream's room — though he knew he could go in without it, he lived almost there. After a soft 'Yes', he let himself in and, after closing the said door behind him, fell to the bed like a bag of potatoes.

“I knew there was something up with you ... what happened?” The blonde sat down next to him, after leaving his desk in the blink of an eye, just for him.

“I feel like I’ve been washed out and then didn't left to dry,” he growled into the quilt in front of his face. “I can’t do even the simplest things in time, as if I’m not just there in the brain, but in the body. Frustrating."

“I understand,” he stroked his hair with his hands and took the other it from there. “Jesus ... you are really warm. Are you sure it's just a problem with your attention? It was as hot as if you were a thousand degrees,” his concern was showing — which was no longer new to George.

"Mhm," he muttered.

* * *

George's condition deteriorated rapidly thereafter, but he wouldn't have said once again that he wouldn't work, who knew what would have happened. He may got hate for it - not as if it hasn’t been so far. But even then he didn’t want to say no, as he had to somehow make himself useful.

That’s why it hit his heart when Dream ordered him to stay in bed - until he got better. The blind man also saw that he was a moving corpse - literally.

“Dream if things ended up badly with me,” the brunette sighed. “Then please don’t digest yourself on it for long. Please."

"But ... Don't say that, George," he said to a tiny moment as he spoke. "I'm sure we can solve it and you'll be better in a matter of seconds." 

* * *

"'I'm sure we can solve it and you'll be better in a matter of seconds,' huh?" sighed Dream, holding a flower. He decided today he was ready to visit George’s tomb, which had been erected about fourteen days ago. At first, they thought he had just fallen back because he had a cold ... they said. It was too late to realize that not a single cold was what George was feeling. His whole body was on fire, almost drowning in his own air. Oh, how guilty Dream felt about this. He was there next to him every day, he could have noticed - and he didn't.

“You know, in the last year or so, I’ve been doing everything I can to make better what has happened to you. I know it’s not a way to live my life, but I just didn’t know otherwise. I painted pictures of you, I was constantly looking for opportunities to write to you in any way ... and I can’t comprehend that it took me so long to say this.” He paused for a moment to clear his throat. “You are and you were, the reason I got this far, that I became who I am today and I could never thank you for that. You are the reason I was as happy as I was.”

“I hope I’ll be able to say in the future that I’m happy and not just that I was,” and he placed a flower on the heap of earth, oh a daisy, and just stared at it. 

* * *

The tomb never received visitors other than one person, but who would have wanted to visit a traitor outside the subject of their betrayal?

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading my fic! i hope i didn't disappoint and you liked it! :) 


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